


The talking Skull

by KiwiMayCry



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:59:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiMayCry/pseuds/KiwiMayCry
Summary: This is a story about a DnD Session I had with friends. One of the characters died, but came back to life through divine intervention. When he wakes up he finds his friends gone. That is where this story starts. He has nothing to go on but a talking bone skull that once belonged to an undead friend of him.





	The talking Skull

„Rise, young warrior, for I still have a need for your services. “ a woman’s voice whispered, right before life returned to Ironbreakers body.

The next thing he knew was another voice calling out his name. It seemed distant, far away, as if it was trying to reach him from behind a mystical veil, but getting closer. Over and over he heard his name and every time he did he tried to move his body which he could not yet feel. But he grew stronger with every passing second, until his eyes opened once more. 

When they did Ironbreaker found himself not where he last remembered. He lay on hard rocks, his body aching all over. The air around him was burning, he had trouble catching his breath. The ash behind his lids was hurting him like a sty. He pushed himself up by sheer force of will rather than his usual physical strength. When his gaze met his own hands he almost fell back down again. He had to witness in horror that he did not stare at his usual, strong Goliath hands. Instead he looked at the body of something with red skin and long, black nails. It almost felt as if he was controlling the body of a demon. 

“Ironbreaker!” the voice he had heard echoed again. He looked around. Not far from him was the entrance to the temple ruins he and his allies had ventured into. It was now flooded by lava, unpassable for any mortal soul. Close to the entrance was what looked like a pile of metal and bones. Ironbreaker did not recognize right away what exactly they were. After a moment he managed to make out that these pieces were the remains of his undead friend Shane. An ally who had traveled with him in the past weeks. He walked over in shock to inspect this horrific sight only to spot a cracked skull, its jaw dangling down. It was laying on the ground between the bones, speaking to him.

“Ironbreaker! You were dead! By the lords pal, you’re a Tiefling now. How’d you manage that feat? Sure does suit you though. But…I’m babbling! No time to lose. Pick me up, will ya? We need to go west. That would be that way. Ah, wait, I don’t actually have eyes, so you didn’t see where I was looking. Haha. It’s to your left, my right. Understood?” the head spoke with a speed that was hard to follow. Ironbreaker bowed down to take the skull and inspect it.

“Shane?” he asked with a hesitant voice.

“The one and only. What are you waiting for? Walk!” Shane replied in a cheerful voice.

“What happened to you my friend? Your body is-” Ironbreaker started. He was looking down on the scattered pieces of what was once the undead body and armor of a formidable knight.

“Ah, that old rust bucket. Don’t worry, I’ll find myself a new one! I hope I’ll be a lizard next. Or an eagle! I always wanted to become an eagle.” Shane replied, his jaw bumping up and down. 

“Shane, is everything alright? You seem…odd.” Ironbreaker asked. His usually canny friend now started sprouting nonsense. He wanted to become an eagle? What?

“I have never been better. Well, my arm is itching and it’s kind of hard to scratch myself without...well, arms, you know? But we should make haste.” The skull answered.

“Get going where? And why? What happened exactly? And where are the others?” the former Goliath wanted to know.

“So much has happened.” Shane started “I’m only a skull now.” 

“I can see that, but what about the others?” 

“They are not skulls. Not last I saw them they weren’t.” the Orenian knight said.

“That’s not what I mean, where are they?” Ironbreaker asked again.

“They are west of here. That’s your left, my right. They fell asleep, then some people came, bound them and carried them away. West of here. My left, your right. Or was it the other way around? I can’t seem to remember. I need to go to sleep now.” The skull said, and then began to snooze.

“Shane, I need a bit more information. Shane? SHANE?” Ironbreaker almost screamed, but to no avail. The skull had gone silent. Ironbreaker had no other choice but to come up with answers by himself for now. He looked around and saw what looked like a small camp a few feet away from him. A campfire sat in the middle, it was already burned down completely and the charcoal had gone cold as well. The rocky underground made it hard to see footprints or tracks of a cart, so the only thing he had was Shane’s word to go west. So he started walking towards the dark mountains in the distance. They were looming in even darker shadows than the rest of the Monster Plain. 

Shane did not return to him for quite some time, but when he did it was only ever for short moments. The words he uttered never resembled anything that made sense. One time he is talking about a flower garden, the next his focus lies on wanting to sharpen his blade. Ironbreaker feared he had gone mad, likely because he lost his body. The state he was in was dire, but so seemed the situation of his allies. The talking skull would have to wait for now.  
Ironbreaker continued his way onwards towards the mountains. He followed something that resembled an old road, which led him into an abandoned village. Though confused at first by this sight of civilization he remembered something. The monster plains once used to be smaller. Over time they extended, devouring everything in their path. This place must’ve been one of its victims. Now it sat there, in the dark, rotting away. Despite the terrible state of the buildings he decided to scavenge whatever he could. A few fresh clothes and some edible mushrooms later the only thing he lacked to be confident to go on was a weapon. But if there had been anything out of a forge the monsters had already taken it. At first Ironbreaker considered using a few planks of wood as a makeshift club. But the brittle construction he could’ve build would splinter at its first strike.  
When he was sure that he had seen everything of value here he set his sight again on his supposed destination. By now it was obvious to him that there was something hidden in the dark mist he saw earlier. Sometimes he would see flashes of light in the clouds above the mountains. Lightning strikes, most likely, revealing winged shadows circling around a spire like structure. Some kind of tower or the ruins of an abandoned fortress. In any case, there would be guards, this much was certain. After a half day foot march Ironbreaker reached the bottom of the mountainside. He decided to stay close to the wall, to reduce the number of angles from which attackers could approach him. The rocks to his side also gave enough chance to seek cover to hide from unwanted eyes. His travel was way easier than he had anticipated. The monster plains were famous for the gruesome creatures that loomed in the dark. They were ready to devour anyone who dared coming close. So far he had not seen anything unusual, other than the winged shadows above him. Nothing attacked him, he heard and saw no monster or other living or undead being. It was almost as if everyone…vanished. If he hadn’t heard the stories about this place first hand - he would have not believed them. Experienced warriors from his tribe detailed the battles they fought here. These descriptions never seemed to be a way for them to ponder for glory. The way their eyes shivered when they recounted their memories spoke of true fear. And these were Goliath men, born for battle, forged in the icy depth of the high mountains. They would challenge giants and dragons without hesitation, but something here broke them. It made them return home and resent combat for the rest of their lives, living by the hearth. But what could it have been?  
So far Ironbreaker was not able to find many sources of water. Neither was he able to locate bigger sources of food. He had gone by the mushrooms he found in the village, and some herbs he discovered along the way. The ground below his feet was hard and black, as were the rocks that formed the mountains. There was a dark mist laying above everything, an even darker one on some parts that made seeing harder for him. And there was an ever ongoing storm, growling thunder reaching the warriors ear from afar. From time to time another noise mixed with the thunder though. A bloodcurdling scream of what must have been a creature of gigantic proportions. It only happened rarely, and it seemed even farther away than the thunder itself. But when this sound appeared there was a shiver running down Ironbreakers spine. Could it have been the legendary creature that stories said to roam these realms?  
He had heard stories about it. The people of the northern mountains called it the Doom of Gods. The elves called it Imthraldir, which meant as much as “Eternal Death” in their native tongue. Common people and stories called it by the name of Acuran. The legends surrounding this creature were vile indeed. Some say it is so strong that neither good nor bad dragons dare to enter its domain. Other voices say the Acuran is the sole reason the dragon wars ended, because it forced the dragons to leave. Ironbreaker was lucky to not have encountered it – yet.


End file.
